Through Wolf's Eyes
by PhantomBella
Summary: A prequel to Defying Fate. Details inside.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey everyone! So, in just about every review I got, people were saying that my style improved as I became more comfortable with my characters. So, I decided to split up Defying Fate into two parts: the prelude, and the actual story. So, if you've already read the first nine chapters of Defying Fate, then go back to that story because that is where most of the updates will be.

HOWEVER!

I am planning on adding short stories here once in a while to cover Serena's childhood and other scenes in the time skip between this part of the story and Defying Fate. Sorry guys, they just felt like two entirely different stories, and it felt weird having them together. It is not entirely necessary to read this story to understand what is going on in Defying Fate, because I will include a synopsis of this story in it. Thanks!

Original A/N: Hello all! I started writing this fanfic about a day after I beat Assassin's Creed, which was about two days after I got the game. :3 I've already got the first three chapters done, but they aren't quite as polished as I'd like them to be. Expect a lot of new chapters and updates next week because we've got the week off! Also, I am searching for a person to beta this story who knows a lot about twelfth century England and the Middle East. I've been doing a lot of research to try to make my story historically accurate, but I think I might slip up sometimes. :3 Anyway…I think that's about it for the Author's Note.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the material from Assassin's Creed. I do, however, own all of my original characters. Enjoy! )

-Chapter One-

_I hold the truth. My own personal truth. The standards I choose to live by. You might call it my creed. It didn't change when my brother died. It was strengthened._

My name is Serena MacRae. I was born to Scottish parents in England on November 23rd, 1166. I also had an older brother named Sean. He was two years older than me, and would always do everything in his power to protect me. Sometimes, kids in our small village would make fun of me for my unusual gray eyes. He wouldn't fight them, but he would tell them to leave me alone. Everyone respected him for his kindness and peaceful ways. My younger sister was only one year behind me. She was a Spring baby, born in April. Alice was her name. We always went on little excursions together out into the green hills with our circle of friends when we were young. No one ever said it officially, but my older brother was always the leader of the adventure. We would pretend that we were people out of fairy tales; warriors, marksmen, magicians, and thieves. My brother would always be the good knight, leading our troop through perilous places and protecting everyone. I was the agile thief, climbing trees and buildings and scouting out ahead for danger.

When Sean reached the ripe old age of fifteen, he was done playing games and the leadership of our group was passed on to me. He spent his days training with the local blacksmith in the art of sword making and fighting. I envied him; we were stuck swinging sticks around while he got to use real steel. Sometimes I would leave the group so I could watch him train. His swords and daggers were beautiful, but he wasn't terribly skilled with them. I would sit in my tree, hidden by the leaves, watching him swing time and time again at the wooden post. When I turned fifteen, I figured it was time for me to learn how to use one too.

"Sean, can I speak with you after dinner?" I asked. He looked slightly puzzled, but agreed to talk to me. I figured he'd be more willing to let me join him if mum and dad weren't around when I asked. We ate dinner as usual, talking about our days as if nothing was wrong. After I helped mum clean up, I found Sean outside in the yard.

"What did you want, Serena?" He asked, curiousity evident in his eyes.

"I'm fifteen now, brother. Just like you were when you first started to practice with swords," I began.

"Mother and Father would never approve, and I don't think it would be wise to go behind their backs." Sean cut me off. He had clearly been expecting this.

"Now then, stop staring at me with your pretty gray eyes and help me feed the chickens." I looked to the ground and picked up a bag of bird seed. I scattered it all around in frustration, throwing the seeds into the ground furiously. I felt bad for making such a scene, but I felt like I had been betrayed by my brother. I hadn't been expecting this reaction from him at all.

"You must have known I would ask." I said. It wasn't a question.

"Well, certainly. I catch you watching me train all the time. I'm afraid I'm not very good, am I?" He laughed bitterly. I looked up in surprise. I had never heard such a melancholy sound come from my brother.

"But you know more than I do." I said. He acknowledged me with his soft green eyes. They weren't as bright as they usually were, but the corners of his eyes creased with laughter.

"Hardly! Ah, but I will." I looked at him questioningly. His face suddenly became serious. "I mean to join the Templars, sister. Their cause is just, and mum and dad support me. I will return once I have proven myself to them, and then I will share with you what I learn." He got down on his knees beside me and held me close. "I leave in a few months. Until then, I will continue my training with the blacksmith. Please, don't follow me again. Alice doesn't even know that I practice fighting, and I wouldn't want her to follow you. She must stay home and protect mother and father. But you…the Templars would find you useful." Sean whispered intently.

I could feel the tears well up in my eyes. I fought them back, fought the burning in my throat. I had to be strong, these emotions were a weakness.

The chickens began to stir. Their cries crescendoed mightily, and Sean and I broke our embrace. I fled from the barn, returning to the house where I would wash up and head off to bed early. I passed my mother on the way in, and Alice was waiting for me inside. I thought about acting normally, but instead pushed past her on my way to the bedroom.

I would figure out a way to deal with her in the morning.

A/N: Hope you liked the first chapter. The first three or four chapters are more background, but they're pretty important for character development, since these are original characters. Bear with me! )


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Chapter two! Enjoy and review please! But be gentle. xD Still looking for that beta... :3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the material from Assassin's Creed. I do, however, own all of my original characters. )

-Chapter Two-

Seven months passed quickly. When my brother turned eighteen, he left the family with a group of Templars for London. I remember their red shining helmets, and the way they towered over my brother. They wore white suits of armor, with a bloody red cross on the front. My fists clenched when I saw them push my brother along, as if he was below them. My mother rested a hand on my shoulder, sensing the tension in my muscles. She whispered soft words in my ear, her Scottish brogue comforting. I felt my hand relax, my temper melting away as I regained control of my emotions.

Some of our old friends were there, leaving him a final farewell. Others had drifted away, and had their noses buried too deeply in their work to care. When he had disappeared behind the last hill, I turned my back on the group and returned to the house.

I wouldn't be sullen. That would be childish and weak. I remembered Sean's promise to me, that he would return and bring with him the knowledge of battle, so that I might join him someday. To think that I would be able to return the favor, to protect him…that was comforting enough in itself.

The vegetables in the garden needed to be tended, so I grabbed a bucket and ran to the village well. The sun beat down on my back, so I rewarded myself with a splash of water before I filled the bucket up again for the plants. I returned to the house quickly, and gently watered the garden.

"There you go, little guys. The sun is beating on you something awful, isn't it?" I said to them. Nobody was around, so it wouldn't hurt to talk to them. It wasn't as if I truly believed they were alive, anyway.

"Serena, come here child." My father's voice came from behind me. I dropped the bucket in surprise and rushed over to meet him. I looked down at the ground, mentally preparing a defense for my sanity. I didn't think anyone would catch me talking to my plants.

"There's a good girl. Now, what's this nonsense I'm hearing about Sean teaching you how to fight?" He asked; his hands folded over his chest. I relaxed for a moment, relieved that he hadn't heard me. When I looked back up at him, he was staring at me imploringly, I couldn't tell if he was teasing me or not. I decided to act serious, so as not to anger him.

"Uh…they're just childish games sir. He didn't mean anything by it, I'm sure." I looked to the ground. I felt bad about lying to my father, but it was for the best. Learning the art of death was everything to me.

"Sure, sure. Now then, let's say you were lying and you did actually learn how to fight. How would you use that knowledge?" He asked. A small smile graced his face. I fought the grin that was bubbling up inside of me.

"Well sir, going along with your hypothetical situation…I'd say I'd join my brother and fight alongside the Templars, so we could protect each other." The grin found its way to my lips. My father patted me on the back and let his smile grow to a mutual grin.

"Good to hear." He said, and took his leave. I was left there alone in the garden to ponder his words. I guess I hadn't thought too much about what I would do once I learned to fight. The Templars wouldn't accept me the way my own father had, so I'd have to find a way in. Posing as a man would get me caught and killed, so I'd have to prove myself worthy to them. I didn't know how, but I decided not to let it trouble me too much.

There was a full moon that evening. I always thought the moon was special, and on evenings such as this I would wander down to the lake so I could watch the light dance on the calm water. Once Alice was in bed, I crept over to the window and unlatched it. I lifted myself over the sill, and climbed down the wall, using other window sills and ledges for support. Once I was on the ground, I started to jog to the lake. Alice had insisted on staying up late that evening, so I wouldn't have as much time to watch the moon.

It was a clear night, the stars twinkling in the sky above me like little crystals. The lake wasn't too far from the village, but I wanted to make it there in good time. Before long, I reached the sandy shore of the crystalline lake, and pulled myself up onto a large boulder where I could rest and enjoy the evening. There was a soft summer breeze in the air, playing with my long red hair. I threw back my head and felt the wind against my neck and the blood pump beneath my skin.

A muffled cry came from far off to my right. I instantly tensed up, worried that there might be something out there. It came again, this time closer. It wasn't human.

I could feel my reflexes sharpen as the adrenaline pumped through my veins. Absently, I searched for a stone on top of the boulder that I could throw at whatever creature it was. I could hear the footsteps now, the sound of disoriented pads in the sand whispering a warning in my ear. When I dared to look over at the creature, I found that it was the dog of a boy I used to play with when I was younger. Its noble face was covered in foam, its eyes twisted and searching for something to attack.

I tried to flatten myself against the boulder, so I wouldn't alert the dog of my presence. It was clearly sick, and wouldn't be able to find me unless I threw the rock at it or made a great deal of noise. The mad dog climbed the riverbank and made its way behind me, on a level higher than the boulder. I subconsciously backed up closer to the edge near the water as the dog came closer.

I slipped.

The dog's ears perked up to the sound as I grunted and tried to catch myself. I didn't fall from the rock, but when I turned to the dog I saw that it was looking straight at me.

"Okay Serena, just don't do anything and he might leave you alone," I said to myself as the dog came closer. I felt my heart pound more quickly with every step. The dog was nearly on the boulder when I threw the sharp rock I held in my hand and hit it on its right flank.

It whined in pain and growled; a harsh sound from deep inside its chest. I feared it was too late to be still, so I turned around, jumped off the boulder, and sprinted off away from the dog. Behind me, I could hear the unsteady cadence of feet pounding against the ground, coming closer and closer.

I decided not to head into the village around anyone else, because that would be too dangerous. Instead, I ran downhill towards a tall tree I could climb to get away from the dog. He was several meters away from me when I reached the tree, and jumped up to the lowest branch. I pulled myself up on top of the branch, and gripped another one. The limbs creaked beneath me, protesting against my weight. I decided not to climb any higher. I was already out of the dog's grasp and the branches up top wouldn't support my weight.

The ferocious dog charged at the trunk of the tree, biting and snarling. He caused the entire tree to shake, and I gripped the trunk more tightly for support. I fought back the screaming and the tears that were building up inside of me out of fear. I wouldn't drag anyone else into this. I wouldn't put another person in danger.

I closed my eyes. I didn't want to look down at the creature that was trying to maul me, instead I pretended that he wasn't there, and prayed. It seemed odd, that the first time I would truly pray would be to save myself. I cursed myself for being so foolish, so naïve, so selfish. To hopefully redeem myself, I said a prayer for my family as well, that they might not be burdened because of me. After thanking God for everything he had given me, I opened my eyes.

A gray beast leapt upon the struggling dog. It tore the pitiful creature's neck open with its sharp teeth, and crunched the bones with its powerful jaw. I held the trunk more carefully this time, and was sure to remain silent so the giant wraith wouldn't see me.

I was entranced by the creature. It looked up at me with large, albeit narrow golden eyes. It whined when I shied away from it, and backed away from the tree. I foolishly began to climb down, thinking this wolf was a guardian angel sent to me by the good lord.

It came up to me when I landed on the ground, cautiously taking me in. I backed up against the tree as the creature sniffed at me, and suddenly it ran away, disappearing into the darkness. Instead of trying to follow it to further demonstrate my foolishness, I decided I had lived through enough adventures that night and headed home.

It was going to be a long two years.

A/N: Review please!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Do I really have to do this for _every_ chapter? Probably not, but oh well. Better safe than sorry! I do not own any of the material from AC. But everything else is MINE! xD

-Chapter Three-

My father was a fairly influential person in the village. He had arranged a marriage for Alice when she turned seventeen, and continued to protect me from the public eye. I was an outcast, a lone wolf. He passed me as a regular worker on his farm for two years, so that he might benefit from protecting me. In that way, I exercised and built up my strength until the day my brother would come to teach me the way of the warrior.

We received few benefits from the Templars as thanks for my brother's service. I prayed for him and my family every night after I was attacked by that dog. I felt as if I was in debt to the God who had sent that wolf to save me. The night after the attack, I snuck out of the house with a knife and hid the body of the dog. Every night after that I would search for the wolves that had saved me, killing every other animal that showed its face. I hoped the wolves would find the bodies and feed on the blood I spilled for them, and know that I was grateful. Each morning, I would clean my clothes and return to work at my father's farm, ignoring the dirty looks that came with it.

My father never told mum of our intentions. They would take me into the market together sometimes, and she would always try to find a suitable husband for me. She would look around, and find a handsome young man, and pay him a shiny golden coin to take me out for the day. They always liked me, and not always just because of the money. Sometimes they enjoyed me for my personality, and sometimes I enjoyed them too. When I felt we were getting too close, I would lose him in the crowd and find my mother at another merchant's stall. And every time, she would take me home and beat me for chasing the man away.

I kept it up for two whole years.

My brother returned to me a week after my eighteenth birthday. He rode into town alone on a royal white steed, wearing the same white armor with a red cross and helmet. I didn't recognize him until he revealed his face.

"Serena! It's so good to see you!" He jumped gracefully from the steed and pulled me into a great bear hug. Mother and Father rushed from the house to greet him. Father shook his hand firmly, while Mother pulled him into a great hug and smothered him with kisses. I stood back patiently, watching my family reunited.

"Well girl, don't just stand there like that! Go and fetch your sister from the village!" My father barked. I nodded quickly and sprinted off to get Alice from her house so she could see Sean again.

I slowed as I entered the village, so I wouldn't attract too much attention. Even so, everyone I passed looked away or glared at me, not wanting anything to do with my unorthodox upbringing. I tried to ignore them, but it still cut me deeply. As I reached Alice's house on the outskirts of the other side of the village and gently opened the white front gate, I realized everything I was missing. I snuck a peek around behind her house at the beautiful orchard, and the flowers that lined the stone pathways. I imagined little pink-faced children running around, smiling and giggling. Breaking away from my daydreaming, I knocked on Alice's front door. She was the one to answer, her face turning sour when she saw me.

"Hello, Alice. Sean is visiting, would you like to come and see him?" I inquired; a fake smile on my face.

"Certainly, " Alice said. Her face lit up at the prospect of seeing Sean again. As she stepped outside, she seemed to remember I was there. "Ah, Serena, would you mind going on ahead? I wouldn't want to be seen walking through the village with you. The ladies don't even think I'm associated with you anymore," Alice said, her voice sappy like poisoned honey.

"You'll manage." I retorted. We walked together in silence, my gait much more down to earth than hers. Alice seemed to struggle to keep up with me, but at my pace we reached home in little time at all. Everyone was inside already, mum was running around trying to fix up some lunch.

"Hello Alice. Lovely to see you," Sean said. She dimpled and ran over to give him an affectionate hug. I took my seat at the table and folded my hands in my lap, waiting patiently for Alice to finish telling Sean about her new home, her husband, and the ladies in town. The only expression I could read on Sean's face was one of relief. I had kept my promise, and Alice was safe.

After a prolonged meal of goat's cheese and bread, Alice reluctantly went back into the village to meet with her friends, repeatedly promising that she would be back for a family dinner. Mum and Dad went out to tend to the farm. Once they were out of the house, I let out the deep sigh I had been holding the entire time. Sean laughed lightheartedly.

"You've passed the first test." He said, his inflection light and cheerful. I stared at him blankly, puzzled.

"Patience. I don't think there's anyone in my rank as patient as you." He said. I beamed at him, nearly unable to control myself. I didn't really know what to say.

"So, how can we complete the other tests? They won't be as easy to cover up." I said.

"I've been writing letters to father about my plans for quite some time." Sean said. He had a distant look in his eyes for a moment, but it faded quickly as it came. "He's promised to distract mother be taking her into the market more often. He also noticed that you've been sneaking out regularly, and actually advises you to continue to improve your strength and stamina." Sean finished, with a clear tone of disapproval. I looked to the ground.

"How long will you stay?" I asked.

"I may only stay for two months, and I must find work while I am here to contribute to the Templars financially. This means that the moments we have together will be rigorous, and will focus largely on technique. You will work on perfecting that technique while I am away, understood? I will be back when you turn twenty, and by then we should have a solid plan to get you involved with the Templars." Sean explained. My eyes widened. Only two months? How would I ever catch up to him?

"Don't worry Serena. I have confidence in you." Sean said, the usual bright smile returning to his face. "We should start today, because we have a lot of ground to cover. Father has promised to distract mother after dark tonight, so sneak out after dark as you usually do and meet me by the lake." I nodded solemly, and stiffened my posture as I heard the front door open and close. Mother and Father were back.

There was a full moon that night. As I sat on the boulder by the lake waiting for Sean, I absently fidgeted with my short sword. I carried parchment and an inkwell and quill in a leather sack over my shoulder, so that I might take notes for future reference. I would milk these lessons for all they were worth, and train with furious intensity for the next two years.

"You're late." I said as Sean appeared beside me. He grinned and hopped up onto the boulder.

"Mum was giving me a hard time, saying that I needed sleep. I had to fake going to bed and then sneak out, just like you. I thought I'd have more freedom than this." Sean said with mock despair and surprise. I giggled lightly, reveling in the feeling of happiness I hadn't felt for almost three years.

"Now then, starting tonight we will focus on how to build your strength, stamina, agility, and balance. We will practice this for about a week. I see that you brought parchment and a quill to take notes with. You will need them, because I am only going to show you how you should be training for the next two years, and it will be up to you to improve. Got it?" Sean said, his voice serious like I had never heard before. Even though it was unusual, if comforted me to know that he was taking my training so seriously. I only couldn't help but wonder why he seemed so determined to train me.

"Yes, brother." I said, my voice lacking inflection. He hopped off of the boulder, signaled for me to follow him, and sprinted off toward the woods. It wasn't difficult for me to keep up; my nightly excursions had paid off.

We reached the woods in no time, and neither of us showed any signs of fatigue. Sean said nothing, but he seemed fairly impressed. Barely taking any time to stop, Sean jumped and easily pulled himself up on top of the lowest branch of the nearest tree. He climbed branch after branch until he was about three quarters of the way up. He looked down briefly and signaled for me to follow. Nearly as effortlessly, I followed him up the tree. I tried to keep from looking smug as I reached the branch just beneath him, but he wiped the smirk off my face himself. He leapt from the top branch and landed with perfect precision on the branch of a shorter tree nearby. Without pausing, he moved from tree to tree for a while as I stood dumbstruck on the same limb. After a couple minutes of the same routine, he paused close to me and spoke.

"The Hashashin we fight are several times more nimble than I. If you hope to last for more than a few minutes in battle with them, you will have to be able to catch me without breaking a sweat at the very least." Sean said, his voice still sober. "Now then, let go of the trunk of that tree. You must be able to stand on the smallest surfaces without anything to give you support. Trees aren't the only things you will be scaling."

I nodded and slowly loosened my death grip on the tree. I tried to focus on a single point ahead of me, hoping that it would help me to steady myself. Before I could find a spot, my eyes wandered to the ground and I became disoriented and sick. I could feel my body wavering back and forth, and soon my right foot slipped from the branch.

The falling sensation had barely registered in my mind before my legs hit another branch and I was spiraling down headfirst. Time seemed to slow down as my arms, strengthened by adrenaline, shot out in front of me and grabbed next limb down, swinging forward and slowing to a stop. I hung there for a moment before pulling myself back up on top of the limb and trying to steady myself with the trunk. Sean cocked an eyebrow at me, and burst out laughing.

"Maybe you should start with a lower branch."

A/N: Read and review! )


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Hey everyone! Happy Valentine's Day! This chapter probably isn't exactly the best Valentine's Day gift ever…haha. I will warn you, there is semi-graphic animal death in this chapter. It's really not that bad, but I want to be sure not to offend anybody. I was thinking about writing another chapter before this one to develop Sean a little bit more…if you'd like me to, I can go back and do that. But this one came to me yesterday, and I'm really proud of it. I hope you like it too!

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed. Nor do I own the poem, which was written by Gwendolyn Bennett. Enjoy!

-Chapter 4-

_Hatred. _

_I shall hate you_

_Like a dart of singing steel_

_Shot through the still air_

_At even-tide,_

The training lasted for two months, just as Sean had promised. By the time he had finished teaching me, I had a large collection of notes with complex anatomy diagrams and descriptions of my body and how to use it to its full potential.

After Sean left I showed my notes to my father, who seemed impressed by my attention to detail. However, I left the notes out on the table when I snuck out that evening. When I returned from training later in the night, I found them bound in leather with several extra blank pages under my pillow, with a note from my father reprimanding me for being so careless. I thanked God for the quick mind of my father in my prayers that night, and fell asleep quickly.

Three months of hard training passed by. I found that I was becoming a more effective worker on the farm. I had much better control of my body, and I could quickly adapt to any job my father gave me. Flexible muscles formed on my arms, abdomen, and legs as I went on sprints and manuevered through the trees at night. Sean left me with the promise that he would find a way to get me into the Knights Templar when he returned, if I could catch him and best him in sword fighting.

When he was visiting, Sean crafted a longsword, short sword, and a large amount of throwing knives for me to practice with. I would take the short sword out at night and strike wild animals from the trees with it, killing them instantly. I was a predator; a wolf unleashed in her kingdom.

By the end of the third month, the trees were bare and much easier to manuever through. The nights were colder, so I pushed myself harder and thrived on the rush of blood that coursed through my veins.

The letter came as winter was settling in.

My father was the first to read it. It was a Monday, and I was walking in from the fields when I heard my father scream in agony. Adrenaline pumping, I ran into the dining room and found him on the floor in a crumpled heap. At first I thought there was something wrong with his health, but then I saw the worn parchment on the table beside him.

"F-Father?" I said tentatively. He barely moved. I cautiously walked over to the table and took in the paper. It was sitting on the table next to an envelope with the Templar insignia on the front. A feeling of dread overwhelmed me as I picked it up and began to read.

'MacRae Family,

It is with our most sincere regrets that we must inform you of the death of your son and brother, Sean MacRae. He was cut down in the line of duty by one of the infidel Hashashin. Please take comfort in the knowledge that we will provide financial aid in these turbulent times. Your son was an asset to our order, and we are also mourning the loss. If you have any further questions, please find us at our base in London. The address is enclosed in the letter.

Regretfully,

The Knights Templar'

The paper fluttered to the floor.

Broken. It felt like ever bone in my body was broken. But I was numb to the pain. I was numb to the whimpering laments of my father, the beating of my heart, the escalating winds from outside. I was empty, emotionless, powerful and yet weakened at the same time.

_Or solemnly_

_As pines are sober_

_When they stand etched_

_Against the sky._

I nearly fell to the floor, paralyzed with grief as my father was. And suddenly it struck me like a stone to the head.

I truly was the hunter now.

I fled from the room quickly, ignoring my father's muffled cries. In my bedroom I found my short sword. I unsheathed it, and looked at my reflection in it for a moment. My usually light grey eyes were dark and hazy, closer to black than their normal silvery color. I closed them for a moment, trying to ignore the cruel pain now clawing at my heart with icy digits.

_Hating you shall be a game_

_Played with cool hands_

_And slim fingers._

I sheathed the sword quickly, disgusted with myself. I was too late, learned too slowly. I was a woman, an outcast. I had given up everything that was near to me to achieve this dream, and now it was gone too. My brother was no longer there to protect me. He was no longer there to look after me. I was not worthy of becoming a Templar yet, and now I never would be.

No.

I would find my own way in. I would kill the Hashashin myself. I would play with their minds, torment them with love and caring, torment them with longing. I would reign terror upon their villages, burn the settlements they had forged through blood and sweat to the ground.

_Your heart will yearn_

_For the lonely splendor_

_Of the pine tree_

_While rekindled fires_

_In my eyes_

_Shall wound you like swift arrows._

Wasting no time, I leapt from my window. The fall to the ground was short, and I landed sinuously on flexible, powerful legs. Using the momentum from the fall, I ran out into the forest again. Night was falling. The moon was out.

Kill. Destroy. Blood.

I scaled the first tree I could find, and leapt from branch to branch above the forest floor with ease. Fire burned through my veins, giving me strength, poisoning me with its unbridled power. A doe was grazing on the ground below me. I stopped quickly. She hadn't even heard my approach.

My head reeled with bloodlust. I stalked the creature, mocked it silently with my presence. The peaceful animal repulsed me. It had never known loss. It had never known suffering.

I would teach it what it meant to lose everything it had lived for. A speckled fawn limped alongside it, clearly unaccustomed to walking. It was young, with a whole life ahead of it.

Just like Sean.

I unsheathed the sword silently. The beating of my heart escalated mightily as I prepared myself to strike.

The doe leaned over to nuzzle its baby affectionately, its eyes closed. It stopped cold as it made contact, and its eyes shot open. Blood splattered onto its moist, black nose. It didn't move for a moment, but then its eyes followed the trail of blood to the wound in its child's heart, to my sword, and eventually to my face. Fear consumed its black eyes, and I reveled in it.

But the doe didn't run. It looked up at me, covered in the blood of its own fawn. I snarled at it, hoping that it would run away and fear me. It didn't budge. I stood slowly.

Confusion overwhelmed my rage. What was wrong with this doe? Why wouldn't it run away? Didn't it fear meeting the same fate as its child? There was something stoic about it as it faced me, something fearless in its demeanor.

Was I like the doe now? Did I fear nothing? I was no match for the Hashashin yet, just as this frail creature was no match for me.

No. We were different.

I would train. I would continue to fight. I would someday overwhelm the Hashashin with my rage, and they would know true fear. I was the wolf.

_Memory will lay its hands_

_Upon your breast_

_And you will understand_

_My hatred._


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hey everyone! Thank you to Leilah, Hedwig, and Byron for reviewing my story so far. ) [crosses fingers for more reviews. I would like to let you know that I am starting to write a collection of short stories about the MacRae family, so you can get to know them a little better, and maybe understand why they do the things they do.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the material from Assassin's Creed, but I do own all of my original characters. Enjoy!

-Chapter 5-

_A gray wolf loped through the trees, skillfully dodging the low limbs and avoiding the entagled roots. Nothing else stirred as the creature raced through worn pathways, searching for its pack. _

_It was alone._

_It stopped abruptly. A familiar scent hung in the air; the sweetly metallic aroma of fresh blood. The wolf stalked low to the ground, almost catlike in its approach. It reached a clearing, and cautiously moved forward, nose low to the ground, following the invisible trail of scent._

_There was a large brown heap in the middle of the meadow. The soft babbling of a nearby brook was all the wolf could hear. There was nothing else._

_Nothing._

_The wolf tentatively approached the body, its eyes warily taking everything else in, searching for danger. _

_The body was motionless. The gray wolf approached it slowly, carefully taking in the sight. The flesh of the large, brown wolf was torn, its eyes forever encased in darkness. The gray wolf collapsed over the body, howling in pain._

_Blood. I will have blood. _

I woke with a start, head reeling with pain. Dried blood covered my face, my clothes, my body. The words of the letter struck me as I tried to reorient myself.

I remembered the look in the doe's eyes as it looked at the dead body of its baby. The pain, the horror that the large brown eyes held didn't faze me. Once the task was done, I fled the scene. The deer didn't chase me.

I found myself at the lake. It was still evening time, the sun threatening to leave the sky at any moment. I walked down to the water slowly, and kneeled before the gentle waves as they caressed the shore.

A face stared back at me from the icy depths of the water. Its skin was ivory, glowing with an ethereal radiance. Deep red stains like lace covered the ghostly visage, dancing motionlessly over its hardened features. Deep red lips and hair the color of blood.

I was overwhelmed with madness. I was a cold-blooded killer, a killer without reason. But now I felt something for those I killed; remorse. It wouldn't stop me. I couldn't give in. Nothing would stop me from exacting revenge on the one who had ended my brother's life. I did not fear pain. I did not fear death. I only feared failure.

I remembered falling to the gound, thrashing about violently. After several moments, my strength was gone. I subconsciously realized that everything was slowing down, until there was nothing.

But the wolves visited me in my dreams.

My house was only a stone's throw away from the lake, so I made it back in good time. The sun was barely rising, but it was already late in the morning. I didn't know what to do when I saw my parents, so I just snuck up into my room to change. I was greeted by a delicate gasp when I stepped into my bedroom.

"SERENA! Oh my goodness! Oh sister! Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Alice ran over to me, searching for wounds, obviously frightened by my appearance.

My own sister was afraid of me.

I reluctantly let her try to tend to me, almost amused by that she had overlooked that it was me, her sister whom she was fussing over. The one she wasn't associated with anymore.

"Aha! As I thought. No wounds on you. Then that can't be your blood." Alice said, her voice now dripping with poison like usual. "You're a murderer!" Alice screamed. She dramatically took in a large amount of air and prepared to shriek. She started as I covered her mouth, but she bit my fingers. I wasn't willing to give up, and we tumbled to the ground, rolling around, fighting.

We had never fought before. Alice was surprisingly strong, but she hadn't worked as hard as I had. She hadn't sweated as I had, hadn't _killed_ as I had.

She clawed at my face like a cat from on top of me, but I grabbed her by both wrists and struck her in the stomach with my knees. She grunted slightly, but continued struggling against my iron grasp, a deranged fury in her eyes.

"Alice! What is wrong with you?" I stuggled to say as I fought her back. She stopped struggling suddenly, stood up, and brushed herself off.

"You were careless, fighting me like that. I was hoping to alert Mother and Father of your crime, but its useless. They won't listen to me. They never will." Alice looked sullen for a moment, and then leapt out of my window, climbing quickly to the ground and rushing off to her home. I ran to the windowsill and watched her leave, a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"Alice, what has happened to you…to us?" I asked. The wind answered me, whispering cruel words into my ear.

_Forget her._

No. My family was everything to me. I would not leave a single one of them uncared for, not even Alice. I changed and washed the blood from my clothes, fighting the tremors of weakness and pain coursing through my body. Once I had finished, I walked over to the mirror to make sure my appearance was safe.

I was not the same person I had seen before I passed out last night. The shadows under my eyes were still present, but the face that was now staring back at me was filled with a new emotion. Her rage was gone and in its place, sorrow reared its ugly head.

Satisfied with what I saw, I went downstairs to find my parents. My mother was still in her bedroom; I could hear her erratic breathing as I passed by. I would have gone inside, but I heard my father fumbling with things in the kitchen, and decided to go and help him. Actions would speak louder than words now, and they were much less painful.

He normally looked like an older version of Sean, but now his green eyes were dark, almost brown. His pale skin was flushed red with stress, his tame brown hair now disheveled. Without looking at me, he handed me a bundle of food and pointed at a bag on the dining room table. I gently carried the package over and placed it inside the sack, looking to him for more nonverbal instructions.

I did not ask him where he was going. In my heart, I already knew. He was going to London, seeking more answers. He would ask me to stay home and watch over Mother. I would stay behind. I was a useless woman.

_Useless._

"Serena?" He whispered, his voice weak and dry. I ran to him quickly, worried that he might have made himself sick. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to extend comfort in some form, but my hand fell short of his shoulder. I could not help him.

"Yes, Father?" I asked finally. I laced my hands behind my back and chewed on the inside of my mouth, waiting almost impatiently for an answer.

"Come with me. Alice will stay with Mother, but you must come to London. You must join the Templars. You must kill the one who has taken my son. _My only son."_ He said, repeating his last words over and over to himself. After a few awkward moments of quiet, he turned to me.

"Go up into your room, pack enough clothes to last you a week. Be quick! We must leave before noon." Father spat sharply.

I responded with only a nod, and then ran up to my room to get ready. I threw everything haphazardly into a small bag, and spent a great deal of time and patience trying to close it. I hurried down the stairs, and paused for a moment by Mother's room.

"Mother?" I called. My voice cracked.

"Serena, I heard you speaking with your father. Come here and give me a kiss, my child." I walked over to her bedside and held her hand, pulling it into a soft kiss. My lips were bloody and chapped, but she seemed to regain a little of her color as I helped her sit up.

"Send Alice over on your way. I love you, Serena." Her grip on my hand tightened, and she pulled me into a long hug. I locked my arms securely around her neck, my fingers tangled in her soft red hair. As I pulled back, I saw something shocking in her deep blue eyes. The pain reflected in those blue depths, it was so similar to the kind I saw in Alice's. I understood now, it wasn't me that Alice hated.

It was herself.

I could read it in Mother's face, she resented herself for letting Sean go, resented herself for putting him in danger. I looked to the floor, unsure of what to do.

"I love you too, Mother. You take better care of us than anyone else in the world." I muttered, still looking at the floor. I gazed at her one more time, filled with remorse and pain, and walked out of the room.

I had decided to stay out of sight when Father got Alice to go stay with Mother. We both figured that she would be more likely to agree to help if she didn't know I was leaving with him, and wouldn't leave Mother once she saw her condition.

With Alice at the house, and several days of travel ahead of us, Father and I set out. The going was much slower than I was comfortable with, and we had to stop frequently to rest. I kept my eyes to the ground, trying to mask my impatience and aggitation with indifference.

"Did you ever wonder why I encouraged you to follow him?" Father asked while we were resting by the side of the road. I muttered a positive reply, still looking at the ground.

"Sean was never comfortable with swords, but you seemed to be. I knew it would be difficult to get you in, but I you to protect him with your determination, while he guided you with his clever mind." Father said. He sighed deeply.

"Fate doesn't look kindly upon those who wish to control it." I said bitterly, still staring at the dirt.

We didn't speak again until London came into view.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Hey everyone! I'd like to start off by thanking all of my kind reviewers! I always appreciate your input, and I really take it to heart as I continue to work on this fic. Every little bit helps!

Okay, so I had to do a lot of research for this chapter! I found out all sorts of cool stuff about the base the Knights Templar had in London, and some interesting things about its location, too. Let's see if you guys can tell me which movie I'm referencing in this chapter. If you've seen it, this should be easy. xD

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed.

-Chapter 6-

"Thank ye kindly, sir. We'll be across the Thames in no time!" The spirited young man said as he loaded our bags into his small vessel. Father helped me get into the boat, and then stepped in lightly himself, the boat barely rocking from his weight.

"See to it, lad." Father replied good-naturedly. I continued looking on ahead, but I smiled. He seemed to be feeling better.

Just as the bright young man said, we came up to the small dock in no time at all. We thanked him and tipped him handsomely, before walking in amongst the pedestrians on the streets.

"We should find a place to stay tonight first. Let's not leave anything to chance." Father said, trying to break the silence.

"I wonder if we could ask somebody for directions." I replied.

The streets wound haphazardly about the half-timbered and whitewashed houses along the riverbank. I looked around, trying to regain my bearings. A small sign just to the North of us read 'Fleet Street', which looked somewhat promising.

"Alms! Alms! Fer ma family sir, think of ma family!" A woman wearing tattered clothes clung to Father. He grabbed her by the wrists gently and coaxed her off of him.

"There, there darling. Now, would you be kind enough to show me to a vacant room where my daughter and I might find some rest? I would feel more inclined to practice almsgiving if you could." Father said kindly. He winked at her, and she brightened instantly.

"Aye, Sir! You'll find a pie shop jus' North of 'ere on Fleet Street, woth an empty room above it. Jus' look fer a black sign woth gold lett'rin'." The woman grinned, exposing some of the most vile teeth I had ever seen. I tried to smile at her in return, but it probably came out as a wince.

"God bless you, kind lady." Father said. He pressed a few shiny coins into her hand before walking off toward Fleet Street, with me following close behind.

It didn't take us long to find the shop; the sign reading 'Mrs. Mooney's Pie Shop' brightening up the street with its vibrant colors. The interior was warm and dry, a welcome reprieve from the damp cold we'd been experiencing for the past few days.

There were booths at every window, and smaller tables organized into neat rows throughout the room. At the opposite end of the dining room was a stove behind a large counter. Flour, meats, and all manner of spices and baking utensils were strewn about its surface. A middle-aged woman with straggly brown hair and warm brown eyes rushed around the counter, mixing ingredients and fussing over the dough; oblivious to our presence.

Father and I stood there awkwardly for a moment, but we were anxious to get to the Temple Church. After a brief period of silence, Father coughed loudly.

"Ah, good afternoon sir, young lady!" The woman rushed over to greet us. The rest of the room was empty, so her eagerness wasn't surprising.

"You're not from around here, are you?" She asked, swiftly taking our bags and hanging them by the door. "Well, don't just stand there like posts! Sit!" She commanded. We hastily grabbed seats at the nearest table, which was eerily polished to perfection.

"This is a nice place you've got here, Miss. You've guessed correctly, we aren't from around here, and are looking for a place to stay a night or two." Father began. He leaned onto his elbows, and rested his rough chin on laced fingers.

"Well Sir, you're in luck! We've got a vacant room upstairs, so if you'll kindly take your elbows off of my table, I'll show it to you." Mrs. Mooney flashed a toothy smile at my father. I rocked slightly on my stool, trying to hide my discomfort. There was something decidedly unnerving about this woman, but I couldn't quite place it.

Father – looking a bit more flustered than he had when he'd come in – got up from his stool and followed her upstairs. He had taken all of the goods we'd carried, so I waited alone at the table for a moment before he returned.

"We will return this evening. Thank you for all of your help, Miss." Father bowed his head and ushered me out the door.

I followed him as he walked briskly to the South, back towards the River Thames. It was difficult not to stare at all of the sights in the shop windows and streets. Our small village back home was not nearly so splendid as London.

Father suddenly grabbed my wrist and pulled me sharply into an alleyway near the Temple Church. My eyes widened with shock; what was wrong with him?

"Serena, listen closely to me now." Father whispered intently. I recoiled from him slightly, surprised by his striking change in demeanor. It was difficult to look him in the eye, but he grabbed my jaw and forced me to face him.

"Did you bring your swords?" He asked.

"Y-yessir." I replied.

"Good. Which one are you best with?"

"My long sword, sir." I said. I looked at the ground for a moment. Sean hadn't gotten much of a chance to tutor me in using the short sword. My eyes began to swim with tears; there was so much I still couldn't do!

"It will have to do. Now then, I've brought you these black hooded robes. I want you to change into them here, and make sure your hair is tucked into the hood. Understand?" Father asked, releasing me and shoving a large black bundle into my chest. I nodded quickly and stepped back into the shade of the buildings around me. My father turned around and sped off to the pie shop to fetch my longsword.

The black robes were large, to say the least. The trousers bunched up around my ankles and waist, and I nearly lost myself in the shirt. I smoothed my hair back, and pulled the hood over my face. It nearly came down to my eyes, but made hiding my hair easy. When I looked up, Father had returned with my sword and belt in hand. I fastened the belt loosely around my waist to prevent further bunching of the material.

Father stepped back for a moment, and examined me. He looked at me from every angle, causing me to squirm under his scrutiny. Seemingly satisfied, he turned on his heels and walked away, motioning briefly for me to follow once he was out of the alleyway.

I didn't want to look anyone in the eye. I was certain there were plenty of people staring at me, so I kept my face to the ground and my arms folded over my stomach. Eventually we passed through the gates of the Temple Church, and I cautiously looked up.

The site was astounding. Before me rose two, magnificent adjacent columns, cream-colored and glossy like marble. Atop the columns rode two stone knights upon their steeds, a sign of power and protection. Just beyond the pillars was a circular building of the same neutral color. Novices and trainers bustled around the courtyard, scrambling to get to their lessons and practice sessions on time.

They were too busy to stop us as we walked down the pathway, between lush flowerbeds and green plants subtly creeping onto the stone. Father led me quickly through the stained-glass doors at the front of the round building, without acknowledging anyone else.

My hand flew to my mouth to cover up the involuntary intake of air elicited by the sheer _beauty_ of the hall. Creamy pillars rose from the marble floor and molded into pointed arches throughout the hall. Intricate stained-glass windows covered the walls, casting a wide variety of hues throughout the room. A single path led to an oaken altar from the entrance of the church, and on either side were five effigies honoring fallen red knights.

A knot formed in my stomach.

The hall was nearly empty, save for a small group of knights gathered around the altar. The echo of the closing door rang in the hall for quite some time, but then an icy silence ensued. Father walked down the hall confidently, his strides echoing throughout the noiseless room defiantly. I followed close behind him, clenching my fists and puffing out my chest with confidence.

After a few moments, I realized that probably wasn't such a good idea.

I almost stopped walking for a moment, completely dumbstruck. This was why the cloak was so uncomfortably large. Father was trying to pass me off as a man.

I was almost angered at the thought. I knew it would be impossible to pretend to be a man forever, especially since my hair was still long._ Father must have something planned,_ I thought.

"Good afternoon, Sirs. What business do you have with the Knights Templar?" A scholar dressed in white robes asked. He seemed jovial, but I cringed at his greeting. No matter, the sea of black material would hide it. It would hide _everything._

"My son, Sean MacRae, was killed recently while serving you. I've come to find out what happened to him, and offer you my other son." Father said. His perfect inflection didn't change at all with his last, false words.

"We've got the mission report here, if you'd like to take a look." The scholar said. His face grew grim and stony; he clearly disliked death.

"I shall test your other son to see if he is ready to join us while the others go and fetch the report." A shorter man wearing his armor and helmet said. His voice was muffled by the helmet, but it was still possible to understand him.

"Step forward, lad." He said. Father went off to the side, and folded his arms over his chest in anticipation. I stepped forward tentatively, and stopped to face the man I'd be fighting.

"What's your name?" He asked.

I froze. How was I going to speak to them? My speaking voice was exceptionally high, and I'd never tried to act like a man before. Was Father a fool for bringing me here?

"Uhm…" Was all I could say in reply.

"The fool doesn't even remember his own name!" One of the thuggish-looking knights said. Most of the others began to chuckle, but the man before me cut them off sharply.

"His name won't matter unless he can prove his worth to us. Now off with you! It is time for me to judge." The man said. I waited for him to draw his sword, but instead he threw one at me from his side. I nearly didn't catch it, he caught me off guard.

"It's blunted. We wouldn't want either of us getting injured." He said, his voice seeming almost kind from behind his indifferent helmet. I looked up and smiled at him briefly, but decided not to prolong the moment. I fastened the new sword to my belt and handed Father the other one, and stepped forward.

"We can't fight in the church lad, follow me outside to the training grounds." The man said. He exited the hall swiftly and led me out into the courtyard.

"This will have to do." He said. He drew his blunted sword, the dull blade opaque in the winter sun. I drew my sword and bit down on my chapped lip hard out of anxiety, causing it to bleed instantly. The sword felt well-balanced enough in my hand. I swung it a few times to test it out, and then walked forward.

The man ran his blade along the blunted edge of my extended sword. After stepping back to the appropriate distance to start a match, we bowed to each other deeply. A crowd was forming around us, and soldiers were already placing bets.

"Get 'im Nicholas!" They shouted. I ignored them, focusing on my target. I held the sword out in front of me and crouched slightly in a defensive position.

"Ready?" Nicholas asked. I nodded, trying to exaggerate the motion slightly so it would be discernable from beneath the hood.

"Begin!"


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Hey! Thanks to everyone who has been reviewing! And cookies to everyone who guessed Sweeney Todd. xD Well, that's pretty much all I've got to say for this author's note...so enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed...or Sweeney Todd. xD

-Chapter 7-

"Begin!"

I didn't let Nicholas' words excite me. I stayed as I was, light on my feet and ready to evade any blow. I would not mess this up. I would not let him win.

He eventually lost his patience and rushed at me, hoping to overwhelm my defense. I planted my feet solidly into the ground and adjusted the angle of my sword so I wouldn't hurt myself with it on impact.

The strike was violent, and I grunted under the pressure of his blade. He pressed down on me with all of his weight, hoping to crush me completely. My arms wouldn't hold out under this pressure for long, I had to get out. I kicked Nicholas sharply in the stomach, knocking him backwards in the process. I was too disoriented to strike, but I was safe for now at least.

He struck at me again and again, hoping that my defense would cave in. I parried each blow, but his speed was forcing me to block sloppily.

After what seemed like an age of cat and mouse, he came at me from the front again. Just as I was about to catch him, he feinted to the left. I tried to track him, but he was too fast. He lunged out at me with his sword and I barely leaped backwards out of the way.

Using the momentum from my landing, I propelled myself forward and tried to get some hits of my own. He easily ducked under my swipe, and nailed me in the stomach with the hilt of his sword, causing me to fly backwards and land on my back. He tried to strike me from above, but I rolled out of the way just in time.

Scrambling back onto my feet, I barely had enough time to regain my composure before he struck me with another series of furious blows. I was losing my strength, and it was all I could do to keep up. The crowd was completely dumbstruck, silenced by out lethal dance.

Without having a partner to spar with, I hadn't worked up much stamina in battle. Eventually, my arms began to crumble under the pressure of each of Nicholas' strikes. I tried to dodge his attacks completely now, my heart beating frantically in my chest and my lungs seeming to collapse on themselves with each breath.

In a final moment of desperation, I swung at his neck. He ducked again, and swiftly pressed the tip of his blade to my stomach.

"Dead." He said. I hung my head, the sense of defeat wrapping around my heart like a vile snake.

"How long have you been training?" He asked me. I looked up briefly, hopeful eyes betraying my indifferent guise. Catching myself quickly, I looked to the ground to hide my feminine face.

"Brother taught me all he knew in two months. I trained alone for three months after, until he died." I muttered, trying to force my voice down a few octaves. I wanted to show them the anatomy diagrams to demonstrate my hard work, but I realized that was probably a bad idea.

"Your determination is admirable, but it will not help you if you do not have the proper technique. Join us, fight for us, that someday your brother's death might be avenged." Nicholas said. I looked up sharply in surprise, and the winter wind blew my hood back from my face.

The whispers of the wind were overpowered by the collective gasp of the crowd around us. I looked about wildly, suddenly very aware of the sharpened swords all around me. I subconsciously formed into a defensive pose, hoping to be able to knock back anyone that tried to strike at me. It was not Nicholas who broke the eerie silence; it was a novice.

"He's a _woman!"_ The boy shouted. I almost snickered at his blunt remark, but it turned into a wince as cruel words were showered upon me. I looked to Father for help, but he looked on indifferently.

"Let's get this infidel out of our Holy Church!" The same thuggish-looking soldier from before spat. He unsheathed his sword and pointed it menacingly at me. He lunged forward, but I jumped and rolled out of the way. Father finally dropped his stoic mask and threw my sword to me. I caught it awkwardly, and tried to fasten it back to my belt while dodging fists and metal-clad legs. One of the novices' fists connected with my face, and threw me back a few meters, away from the group. I lay on the ground for a moment, stunned. I could feel a hot, sticky liquid running down my face in rivulets, pooling on the ground around me.

_Oh God._

The thunder of angry footsteps brought me back into the moment. I hastily forced myself off of the ground, and threw the blunted sword to the ground, not wanting to be burdened by it. Wasting no more time, I sprinted off toward the exit.

A few Templars stood at the gate with their swords drawn, so I decided to try a different escape tactic. I redirected myself to the wall, and threw myself up to the first protruding stone and heaved myself up. After a few tense moments, I had clamored over the fence and landed safely on the other side. I ran back to the pie shop as quickly as I could, shoving pedestrians out of my way and causing many a random passerby to drop their groceries. They seemed frightened by my frantic appearance; wild red hair whipping around my face, caked in dried blood with more of the red liquid pouring from my nose.

I didn't stop until I was safely inside Mrs. Mooney's Pie Shop. The kindly woman was bustling about the room, cleaning tables and mixing flour into a large bowl. She looked up as the door slammed behind me.

"What's your rush, darling?" Mrs. Mooney asked, obviously bewildered by my sudden, frantic entrance.

"T-Templars, they're after me." I said. Mrs. Mooney paled, and rushed over to lock the door. Her eyes seemed to bulge from her sockets as she pulled tattered curtains over all of the foggy windows.

"Why don't you kick me out onto the street? No customers will be able to come inside if you hide me here." I said to her, staring guiltily at the floor. I didn't want to drag her into my problems; even if she had frightened me at first, she didn't deserve to face a band of Templars.

"Times is hard Miss, you and your father are the only paying customers I've had in weeks. I'll be damned if I lose you too." She said, the frenzied look still in her eyes. "Come here and let me have a look at you!"

I walked forward slowly, smarting from the pain and disgusted by the blood that was now everywhere. She winced as she examined the wound, and ran out of the room to fetch a water basin and washcloth.

"Now then, come with me! You can clean quietly in the basement. I'll come and get you when the coast is clear." Mrs. Mooney said, her voice much calmer and more focused than usual.

She led me over the door in the northeastern corner of the room. I settled at the top of the stairs next to the locked door, I tried to wipe the blood from my face, but catching all of it was difficult in the dark and the bleeding had already slowed anyway. I listened closely while I cleaned, ready to run in to help Mrs. Mooney should she need it. No one would lay a hand on the kind woman, not while I was around. After a long wait, the front door swung open slowly, causing me to flinch.

"Mrs. Mooney, have you seen a girl with red hair wearing loose, black robes anywhere?" A high pitched voice came from beyond the door. I was slightly puzzled; why would they send a small boy or a woman in after me?

"She's supposed to spend the night here, but I haven't seen her all day." Mrs. Mooney replied warily.

"Could you make sure she gets this when she comes back?" The person with the high voice asked.

"Certainly dear. Now then, have yourself a drink of hot tea and be on your way!" Mrs. Mooney said, her usual cheery but forceful voice returned. After a few brief moments, the front door opened and closed again, and Mrs. Mooney came to fetch me from the basement.

"I'm sure you heard what the small boy said. Here's the letter." Mrs. Mooney handed me a small note bearing the Templar insignia. I sat down at the nearest table with it, and she brought me a hot cup of tea to sip while I read. I set the parchment down on the table and began to read, careful to avoid staining it with blood.

'Miss MacRae,

On behalf of the Knights Templar, I would like to apologize for the inexcusable behavior of some of my subordinates today. Rest assured that they have been strictly reprimanded for their actions.

I see potential in you. Meet me tonight just before the sun goes down by the Thames.

Nicholas'

I felt a strange giddiness bubble up inside myself. My hands began to shake violently, and I could no longer sit down. I set down my tea and leapt out of my seat, rushing upstairs to finish washing my face with a mirror, braid my hair, and change into something more presentable. Mrs. Mooney didn't say anything to me, probably out of respect for my privacy.

It was only a short wait until the end of the day. When the sun was drifting down toward the horizon, I left the shop after thanking Mrs. Mooney and bidding her farewell. It was a short walk to the River Thames, and it didn't take long for me to find Nicholas waiting in his complete suit of armor.

"Serena, is it?" He asked. I nodded and bowed my head deeply in respect.

"Ah yes, your father has told me a lot about you. Don't be worrying about him, he's safe at the Temple Church." He lifted my chin gently, the smooth metal of his gauntlets like ice against my warm skin. I was suddenly painfully aware of the ugly black bruise forming on the bridge of my nose.

"Are you all right?" Nicholas asked.

"I-" I began.

"No, of course you're not all right!" His head inclined toward the ground. "Stupid question, sorry." I opened my mouth to protest, but closed it again, not sure of what to say.

"Right…I have managed to convince my superiors at the church that casting you out would be a waste." He said. I whipped my head back around to face him, completely attentive now.

"I must leave for France tomorrow morning, so you will have to work hard and be extra careful not to anger your instructors because I won't be around to get you out of trouble…but I trust that you will do well. Sean was my friend, and I want to do everything I can to help you reach your goal." Nicholas finished, now looking out at the river too. The reddish sun reflected off of the river, like flames licking the surface of the water. I did not notice the beauty; all I saw now was Sean's jovial face looking back at me from the icy depths.

"I'm getting closer." I whispered to him, my teeth clenched with the cold.

"Pardon?" Nicholas asked, his head tilted to one side. I imagined an innocently curious expression behind the red helmet, and couldn't help but giggle.

"Nothing, Sir. If I may, I am going to return to my room. I will be at the Temple Church early tomorrow morning before you leave." I said, before turning back toward Fleet Street. I looked back briefly at my new friend.

"Thank you for everything, Sir."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Okay, so I know some of you mentioned that the effigies weren't in place until the thirteenth century…and I actually am aware of this. I just wanted to have them in there to remind Serena of Sean and her goal and such…and…yeah. xD

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed or Sweeney Todd. Enjoy!

-Chapter 8-

Dinner with Mrs. Mooney was…interesting.

She had prepared two pies while I was out, one for me and one for herself. When I returned, she commanded me to sit and placed a ceramic plate in front of me with one of the most hideous looking dinners I had ever seen atop it.

It was a mincemeat pie, fresh out of the oven. Hard to believe, what with the greasy crust that felt infinitely harder than the stale bread I had become used to over the past few days of traveling. I poked it with my fork, and a grayish sauce came trickling out. Bravely lifting the small morsel to my mouth, I cautiously placed it inside. I knitted my brow at the harsh taste. It didn't go unnoticed.

"Is something wrong with it, dear?" Mrs. Mooney asked, her large brown eyes shining anxiously. I sighed deeply and looked at the table in shame, hoping she hadn't noticed how long I had been chewing on the first bite. Nevertheless, I kept on chewing, hoping that it would buy me some time.

"Of course there is! There's no spice in it, no flavor!" She suddenly snapped. "It certainly isn't my fault, though. I could bake mincemeat pies with the best of 'em I'm sure."

"No shpisches?" I slurred tentatively through the gritty mess, unsure of how to react to her sudden outburst.

"We get the spices from them damn orientals, but recently they've grown a bit stingy. None of them care for poor Mrs. Mooney's pies! Because of them, I've had to stuff the pies with grass from the riverbanks!" Mrs. Mooney was working herself into a tizzy.

I spat my mouthful out violently then froze, suddenly feeling quite awkward. The middle-aged woman sighed much more loudly than necessary and fetched a washcloth to clean up the mess. I hastily smashed the rest of the pie up with my fork while she wasn't looking.

" Thank you so much for the_ lovely_ dinner, but I'm quite full now. I should really get to bed Mrs. Mooney. I'm leaving early in the morning, and I wouldn't want to oversleep." I bluffed, hoping she wouldn't sense the slightly panicked tone of my voice.

"Sure thing, dear. See you in the morning." Mrs. Mooney smiled her toothy smile, and busied herself with the dishes as I retreated to my room.

* * *

I was awake and dressed long before the sun was up. I looked in the mirror before I packed everything up, my nose wrinkling in disdain over my ugly black bruise, which cause me to wince in pain again.

It took several tense moments, but I eventually found a way to carry all of the bags Father and I had brought along. I walked down the stairs quietly, not wanting to disturb Mrs. Mooney if she was still sleeping.

"Good morning!" Mrs. Mooney shouted from the dining room. I jumped up in surprise, and dropped all of the bags I had worked so hard to balance. I growled in frustration, and started to pick everything up.

"Good morning to you, too." I said through gritted teeth. Mrs. Mooney rushed over, and picked up some of my bags herself.

"Here darling, let me help you. If I hadn't caused you to drop all of these things, someone else in the streets would have." Her cheery voice rang in the room. I couldn't help but smile as she selflessly locked up the shop and grabbed the majority of my bags in her arms.

She chattered in my ear about her baking secrets the entire way to the Temple Church. I smiled, nodded, and "mmhmmed" at all the appropriate times out of courtesy, but my mind was elsewhere. I was going to be a Templar. I would kill the Hashashin who had taken my brother from me.

Mrs. Mooney handed all of my bags to me once we reached the gate into the Temple Church's courtyard, and gave me a big hug.

"This is as far as I go, dear. I'm not interested in meeting with those Templar knights again." Mrs. Mooney shuddered in my arms.

"Thank you for everything, Mrs. Mooney. Father will return to the shop later today to pay you for your kindness." I said, grinning despite the aching pain in the center of my face.

"Don't worry about it dear. Be sure to visit when you're available." Mrs. Mooney said, turning around to return to her empty pie shop, whistling a happy tune all the while.

I passed through the exquisite courtyard again, this time as a woman. It earned me many glares of sheer contempt, but I didn't care. I ignored them all.

Not exactly sure where else to go, I headed into the round church building. The stained glass windows glittered in the morning sunlight; its reflection burning my eyes.

The same men from the day before stood in the nave at the altar, their brows furrowed in concentration. The one with his helmet on (I assumed him to be Nicholas,) looked up at the soft pattering sound of my footsteps. One by one, the others looked up and acknowledged me. The bulky one from before raised an eyebrow at the load I was carrying, but I ignored it.

"Good morning, Masters." I greeted them and bowed deeply once I stepped into the nave. A smile formed on my lips. I had spent hours toiling in the fields at home, dreaming of the day I would greet a Master as a student.

"Good morning, Miss MacRae. Your father is waiting for you in the courtyard now. Go to him, and we will finish discussing your future while you are gone. Do not come back inside until we call for you." Nicholas said, his voice stoic and grim. It was a harsh change from the warm undertones of the day before. I said nothing and took my leave, after bowing respectfully to the group. _I must tread carefully, I cannot compromise my position in the Order,_ I thought to myself.

Father was standing out in the middle of the courtyard waiting for me. His eyes glistened with mirth, and upon seeing them my lips curved into an involuntary smile.

"You've done it, Serena!" He cheered, pulling me into my arms and causing me to drop everything I had been carrying. We both laughed together, voices clear and spirits high. It didn't take long for me to become sober once more however, as the reality of the ramifications of my decision hit me.

"I may never see you again after today, Father." Tears welled in my eyes, threatening to spill over. My first impulse was to bite them back in an attempt to cover my weakness. The encouraging touch of my Father's hand on my shoulder reminded me that emotions were what made me myself. I had tried to cover them up over the past few years to prevent them from clouding my judgment, but here they were now, pouring out for everyone to see.

"I'm confident that you will. Once the Hashashin are gone forever, you can return to us." Father tried to brighten his smile, but his face scrunched up slightly as if the words tasted bitter on his tongue. He pulled me into a tight, reassuring hug.

"If not at the farm, I will see you in heaven." I murmured into his shoulder.

"What was that dear?" He asked, releasing me gently and looking into my eyes.

"I said, I look forward to that day." I replied, not wanting to remind him that he could lose me forever too.

"Well then, I will go pay Mrs. Mooney for her kindness now, and return to Mother." Father kissed me lightly on the forehead. "Take care, Serena, I love you."

"I love you too, Father." I whispered, drying my tears stiffly. He bent down to pick up all of his belongings, and walked out of the courtyard without looking back at me.

I wanted to feel pain as he disappeared. I wanted to feel sadness gripping at my heart with icy fingers. I wanted to feel the impulse to chase after him, but I felt nothing now that he was gone.

_Nothing._

I had few bags left to carry. I wasn't exactly sure what to do while I waited, so I decided _not_ to wait. There were plenty of thin, stained glass windows around the church building, and finding a secluded place to listen in on the discussion at the altar wouldn't be too hard. They wouldn't catch me, so where was the harm in trying?

It was difficult to slip over to the church building unnoticed, because everyone who walked by stared at me, or turned to their comrade and whispered. After a few minutes of activity, the courtyard was emptied and I could inconspicuously make my way over to the building.

Just behind the nave, there was a small porch. It was easy to discreetly pretend to loiter there, while listening to the muffled voices through the round, patterned glass window.

"If Grandmaster Ridefort visits the church while she's here, she'll be beheaded and we'll be in all sorts of trouble. Best to talk to him about it when she's not around." A gruff voice said.

"Then where do we send her where she won't be discovered by him?" An aged voice asked.

"What about de Sable?" Another voice echoed ominously through the hall. No one else dared to break the silence for several moments.

"He isn't affiliated with us, what would we have to gain from sending her to him?" The same gruff voice from before demanded.

"It's an excellent idea! Her identity and our heads will be safe, and she will be conditioned to become a true Templar. Besides, I should think you'd jump at the chance to send her away, Matthew." Nicholas snapped.

I nearly squeaked in surprise. They were planning on sending me away, and Nicholas agreed with them? It seemed logical to me, but where would they send me to? Deciding I had heard enough to satisfy my curiosity for the moment, I returned to the courtyard in front and stood along one of the flowerbeds. It didn't take long for them to send a messenger out to fetch me, which indicated that they probably had agreed on the idea of sending me away.

The interior glowed in the midday sunlight. It was still blinding, but my eyes adjusted quickly. I walked briskly to the nave and bowed deeply to all of my superiors. Nicholas addressed me first, speaking stiffly with formal articulation.

"Serena, after some discussing, we have reached a decision. We think it fair to warn you that you may not like it at first, but we all agree that it is for the best."

I nodded, hoping they would continue quickly.

"A man named Robert de Sable is cultivating troops to place throughout the Holy Land. He is not affiliated with our Order, but he comes from a respected military family." Nicholas continued. The others tried to read my expression, but I tried to remain expressionless until they were finished.

"We plan on sending two of our finest knights, along with another novice named William to his camp just outside of Jerusalem. Our wish is for you to join them, that you might remain safely hidden from the…somewhat judgmental eyes of our Grandmaster." Nicholas finished. He received several reproachful glares from his comrades when he spoke of their master, but he seemed completely oblivious to them. I opened my mouth to speak, but the man called Matthew cut me off.

"You must request permission to speak first, novice." His eyes were filled with hate. I tried to shrug it off, but it seeped through my skin like poison, burning my muscles and causing them to shake with a controlled fury.

"Permission to speak, Masters?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"You may have it." Nicholas answered before Matthew could cut in again.

"Firstly, I'd like to thank you for your kindness. But what must I do now?" I inquired. The elderly priest stepped forward once I had finished speaking. He seemed to be a nervous man from the way his eyes shifted about the room wildly, so I diverted my eyes to the ground.

"You may sleep in the room your father took last night. Be awake early in the morning tomorrow and meet Matthew out here. He will introduce you to your partners and direct you to your ship." The old man seemed aloof as he spoke; he didn't meet my eyes like the others. I figured he was probably trying to pretend that I was another man to comfort himself.

"Is that all, Masters?" I asked, my head inclined toward the ground.

"Yes, I will show you to your room now." Nicholas said, his voice monotonous behind impassive steel. I nodded, and followed him out of the church.

I stayed behind him the entire way, not wanting to be disrespectful. We stopped in a one-person room on the west end of the courtyard. I placed my bags neatly at the foot of the unmade bed, and turned to face Nicholas.

"I'm sending you to Jerusalem with one of my finest students. I'll be sure to tell him to look after you before I leave." Nicholas said, his muffled voice back to normal. I eased my posture and turned to look him in the eye. Or at least where I figured his eyes would be.

"Thank you, Nicholas. I don't think I'll need someone to look after me though." I said with faux-pride. I imagined him grinning behind his bloody helmet, because his posture relaxed too and his energy seemed lighter.

"Anything for a friend." Nicholas said.

Without saying anything more, he turned on his heels and walked swiftly out of the room.

"A friend." I echoed, the words leaving a sweet aftertaste on my tongue.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: GAH! I have been absolutely buried in projects, so I haven't had much time to update... But the next chapter will hopefully come out within a few days because I've already got it about halfway finished!

A million thanks to my WONDERFUL beta, Ilada Jefiv. She goes way above and beyond, and her suggestions are really helpful. D

Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed. I do, however, own all of my original characters.

-Chapter 9-

I woke the next day to the morning sun filtering through the colored windows of the guest room, a blissful smile spreading across my face. A servant had brought in a full wash basin while I was sleeping. A clean but ragged cloth soaked in the basin, with which I wiped the sweat and morning grime from my face.

I suddenly realized that the only thing I had eaten the day before was a bite of Mrs. Mooney's pie, which certainly wasn't enough to sustain me for long, rich in fiber as it may have been. There was still bread in my bag, so I tore open the pouch and ravenously consumed all of the remaining bread, satiating my protesting stomach.

The ship would set sail for the Mediterranean later in the afternoon when the tides were right to launch. As I still had plenty of time, I methodically gathered all of my belongings. Once I had finished, I left the room and walked out into the courtyard.

A portly man dressed in white robes hurried up to me. I recognized him as the scholar from the group of men Father had spoken with when we first came to the church.

"Miss Serena MacRae, I would like to introduce you to your new partner, William Basset," the scholar said. He gestured to a short man standing beside him, and I looked up for a moment to make eye contact with my new potential friend.

He must have been only a few years younger than I to be a novice. His face was round and babyish, but his steely blue eyes were intelligent and careful. The expression on his face was neutral but pleasant nonetheless, and he wore the uniform armor of the Templars, indicating that he had already started training.

"Pleased to meet you, Serena." William bowed deeply. I stuck my hand out assertively for him to shake, but instead, he took it in his icy, metal grasp and brushed his lips against my wrist. I withdrew it quickly once he released me, not expecting nor desiring that sort of attention. He looked slightly hurt by my reaction, so I tried to smile at him to reassure him. His expression didn't seem to relax much.

"Likewise," I muttered, looking at the ground.

After a few awkward moments, the scholar cleared his throat. "Now then, formalities aside," he said, his high-pitched voice disapproving. I winced, afraid that I had offended them in some way. "Let us speak of the assignment. While you are living in Jerusalem, you will both have Arabic pseudonyms to protect your identity as well as the sanctity of the Brotherhood. I will assign these names to you now, that you might become used to them quickly. Understood?" I nodded quickly and focused on his pink face, waiting to absorb more instruction.

"Serena, your new full name is Sana bint Hakim al-Rashid, meaning 'Radiance, walking in the right direction, daughter of Hakim,'" he explained, over articulating each word in a way that was extremely irritating.

"Daughter of Hakim?" I asked.

"You have both been assigned guardians of a higher rank. Your guardian's pseudonym is Hakim al-Rashid." He smiled as he answered my question, seemingly pleased by my attention to detail. Or, quite possibly, with himself. "Is there anything else I can answer for you?" he inquired.

"Not at the moment, but thank you, sir." I bowed deeply in thanks.

"Now then, William, from this moment forward, you are Asad al-Hakam, meaning 'The wise judge.' Your mentor's name will be Suleiman al-Hakam. Have you any questions?"

"Sana has already asked, sir," William answered. His voice wasn't sullen as I would've expected; it seemed much more appreciative, and I couldn't help but smile. I had a good feeling about my new partner.

"Sana…" I murmured, tasting the new name. Radiance. The idea of the other Templars giving me a name like that seemed highly unlikely. I wondered idly if Nicholas had a hand in selecting the names for his student and me.

Nicholas. I didn't know if I would ever see him again. Something about that idea displeased me much more than I felt comfortable admitting. Disregarding the notion, I turned back to the scholar only to find that he had disappeared while I was daydreaming. William, however, was still there, silently observing the large bruise on my face when he thought I wasn't looking.

"May I discuss something with you in a more…private place?" William asked me. I cocked my head slightly, not knowing why he would want to speak with me, especially about something that seemed so serious.

"Sure, let's go to my room." I said, turning on my heels and leading the way.

The room was quiet and serene, still too young to have collected any dust in the corners. I sat casually on the bed and folded my hands in my lap, while William paced in front of me, something clearly bothering him.

"Is something wrong, William?" I inquired after a few moments of silence. He turned his babyish face toward me and made eye contact, acknowledging me.

"Call me Asad," he commanded. I could feel my jaw clench at his sharp tone; this little brat was ordering me about like he was my superior.

"And you may call me Sana." I responded, my voice still shaking slightly with fury after counting to ten slowly. He looked up in alarm at the acid in my words, his brow furrowed innocently. I sighed, tucking the anger back into the corner of my mind. "Why did you want to speak with me, Asad?" I asked, only adding his name at the end to reassure him.

"I just wanted to talk to you about your brother," Asad said. I winced involuntarily as I thought of Sean but shook it off, encouraging him to continue.

"I'm sorry…" he apologized sheepishly, noticing my reaction.

"No need to be," I said, hoping that he would feel comfortable enough to continue.

"I was in his company when he was killed. He always took it upon himself to look after me," Asad lamented.

At his words, I realized the reason I had snapped at him before was because I felt strangely jealous of the boy. He had already fought for our God alongside my brother. He had already lived my dream and was younger than I.

"Yes, he was certainly one to think of others before himself," I whispered, the words feeling almost bitter.

"Mmm." Asad agreed absently. His eyes became foggy with doubt, and he turned away from me, mulling over his words for a few minutes, after which he turned back to me and continued. "Nicholas wanted me to help you catch the assassin who killed your brother, and…" William trailed off, losing confidence. He bit his lip, as if he were trying to sew his mouth shut to keep the rest of his words inside.

"Well, out with it," I said after several moments of silence, my patience growing thin.

"I know a little bit about the one who killed your brother; he is quite infamous within his order, and words of his deeds have crossed the lips of many," Asad began, his eyes shifting about as if the one he spoke of was lurking in the corner.

"Will you tell me about him?" I asked, my eyes growing large.

"He wears a white tunic with a pointed hood like an eagle's beak. Those who speak of him in whispers say he is an angel of death, but to his brothers he is Altaïr Ibn La-Ahad." Asad cringed in fear, his eyes frantically scanning the windows as if the 'angel of death' would fall upon him at any moment.

"Is he human?" I asked, my voice shaking slightly again, this time with fear.

"I don't know," Asad answered, his words hanging ominously in the air for a moment.

"Oh," I said dumbly, not thinking about the response as my imagination painted the picture of a white tunic, stained crimson with blood.

_The angel would fall._

"Sana?" Asad prodded me tentatively, and I looked at him, instantly snapping out of my reverie. "Would you like me to teach you a little bit about the laws of the brotherhood?"

"I would greatly appreciate it, Asad." I replied, my voice still slightly dreamy. He took me by the hand and opened the door, drowning the room in pale winter sunlight. Once we came upon the other novices he released me, probably not wanting them to notice the contact.

"We will have to be careful, Sana. We can't do anything that could be misconstrued as sexual, or we will both be beheaded," Asad muttered ominously.

I almost giggled at his seriousness. "Okay," I said, not knowing what else to say about such an awkward subject.

"The code states that the evils of women misguide us, so we must avoid them at all costs." Asad said, his voice rough and calculating, contrasting his childish face sharply.

"I'll keep that in mind." I said sarcastically, hoping to erase the awkwardness. It worked; Asad laughed a little and started walking toward a large building. He opened one of the stained-glass doors for me, and I passed into a hall that was decorated much like the church, but there were tables that stretched down its length.

"This is the dining hall," Asad said as he closed the door, pointing out the obvious.

It was time for breakfast, the tables were filled with eating and conversing knights. A few of them sat on the ground, despite there being more than enough room at the vast tables. Those sitting by the door turned to stare at me, and, like ripples in water, the rest of the room also turned and leered. I looked just above their heads, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone but not wanting to avert my eyes to the floor either. After a few tense moments, they turned to their comrades and began speaking in hushed voices.

_Ignore them._

"Asad, why do some eat on the floor?" I whispered, not wanting anyone who might be offended to hear. He fidgeted with his hands for a while, seeming uncomfortable with the subject.

"They… they are the ones who broke the code and returned alive from a lost battle. Templars refuse to submit to anyone but God, and those who do are punished," Asad explained, sounding upset.

"Why don't you kill the cowards?" I asked, trying to sound more confident than I actually was. Asad's eyes suddenly widened and his mouth opened with an involuntary gasp.

"Th-that would be a waste! Templars seek victory, and killing our own would not help us achieve our goal." Asad said, his voice on the verge of being hysterical. I wanted to reach out and touch his shoulder to calm him, but I suddenly became aware of all of the pairs of eyes staring at us from the tables. Those sitting on the floor stared at the ground.

"Would you… would you like to eat something before we leave?" Asad asked after a moment, his voice somehow resigned.

"No thank you, I've already eaten." I replied. He brightened instantly at my refusal, puzzling me further. The opportunity was difficult to turn down; the food looked much more appetizing than Mrs. Mooney's pies. Regardless, I didn't want to make Asad any more uncomfortable than he seemed now, and I was running out of time in London anyway.

"It's almost time for us to leave. I think I will return to my quarters to pick up my supplies and head out to meet Matthew." I said, giving Asad a brief nod of farewell before turning and walking out of the hall.

Matthew was waiting for me when I reached the courtyard with my bags. His heavy, red face was sour, and his arms were folded across his chest impatiently.

"Where is William?" he hissed.

I didn't flinch at his harsh tone, not wanting to give him power over me. _"Asad_ is eating breakfast. I doubt he will be long." I replied, trying to keep my tone as amiable as possible while remaining assertive. It wasn't enough.

"Learn your place, woman! When speaking to your superiors, refer to them as 'Sir.'" Matthew spat.

My eyes narrowed and I gripped the strap of the bag in my hand more tightly. "Asad is eating breakfast, sir. I doubt he will be long." I repeated, the words now sounding forced.

"Adequate," Matthew leered. "Follow me to the ship."

I walked a few paces behind the bulky muscled knight, not wanting to be forced to talk to him any more than necessary. We left the church through the front and walked the short length to the Thames through the winding streets of London. A ship waited for me, its large white sails billowing in the cool winter breeze. It didn't look terribly sea worthy, but I didn't know anything about seacraft.

"Don't just stand there like an idiot! Get on the ship." Matthew barked.

I jumped slightly, startled by the sudden loudness of his voice, and scurried onto the ship without even looking at him, not wanting to meet his harsh eyes again.

"I'll be back with Asad later!" he shouted. I looked back to him, and for a moment his face looked almost pleasant. I shook my head; it was just neutral compared to his usual scowl. I didn't say anything to him, because the only words which ran through my mind would get me beheaded.

Instead, I looked around the deck of the ship. A few people were clamoring about, tying knots and pulling ropes. A large man with a thick black moustache and deep brown eyes came running up to me when he spotted me standing awkwardly on his ship.

"Is your name Sana?" The man asked with some kind of thick accent. I nodded quickly, short strands of my red hair falling into my eyes.

"Stow your things below deck. You will share a berth with Asad. It's the first one on the left," he said, not even introducing himself. I simply nodded again.

The hatch was easy to open, and I descended down the ladder slowly with my belongings. The interior of the ship was musty, the air thick with the smell of brine. I fought down seasickness from the odor and found my way into the small cabin. There were two small adjacent cots, and I took the one on the right. The sheets were torn and dusty, but I could use my own blankets from home.

It took only a few moments to replace the dirty sheets with my own, and lay the rest of my things on my bed. I decided to relax on the bed for a bit, and, after a little while, Asad walked into the room.

"I just spoke to the captain. Our guardians are already on board, probably talking or sleeping in their rooms," he said. I grunted to acknowledge his words and rolled over onto my back to stare at the ceiling. "We will leave soon, so I am going to return to the deck to look at London one last time. Care to join me?" Asad drawled, obviously feeling more comfortable around me now that we were away from the church. I grunted again and rolled out of the bed, landing on the ground with a dull thud.

Asad burst out laughing at me, and for good reason. I probably looked nothing short of pathetic; a knight-to-be tangled in a dark blanket, struggling to stand up. I finally managed to force the blanket off of myself and set it up on the bed, standing shakily. I was feeling slightly nauseated and looking for a reprieve from the thick air and constant rocking.

"Not a word." I playfully, though it probably didn't come across that way because of the pounding headache that was intensifying with each moment.

"Sure." Asad grinned and turned on his heels, exiting the cabin swiftly to avoid a sharp smack to the face.

True to his word, we ascended the ladder wordlessly and stepped out onto the deck. The crew ran about as the captain barked orders at them, his dark moustache dancing over his lips. Asad and I dodged past them and made our way to the railing on the side of the ship.

London looked the way it always had, busy and haphazardly organized. The thought that this could be the last time I would ever see my homeland sobered me instantly. A single tear rolled down my cheek, drying over my warm face quickly and leaving a stiff trail of salt. Asad looked over and put a comforting arm on my shoulder, the expression on his round face pained. I tore my eyes away from the shore and stared ahead at the path that lay before me.

There was no looking back now.


End file.
